To the boy from flower shop

Dear boy from the flower shop around the corner,

Let's make one thing clear: I hate roses, or flowers, in general. Yet I bought each twice a week just because you loved them, or it seemed from the way you talked about them. I still don't know your name or what do you do or why are you here but all I know is your love for roses.

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Why do you love them? Because your grandmother put them all the time in her hair just because your grandfather loved to put them in her hair. I think that's how senseless love is right? We start to fancy the things we hate just because it is associated with someone we love. I think that's why the fragrance I couldn't stand, I've started to adore, just like your smile.

I don't think if you remember how it all started, how I came at the wrong address yet I acted it was where I was meant to be. Seeing your smile as you asked "What can I do for you?", maybe, after all, I was meant to be there. Maybe I was meant to know that yellow stands for friendship and red stands for love for if I didn't, how could I know which one to gift you?

And from the moment I saw you, I knew someday I would. I made it my ritual to visit every Tuesdays and Saturdays to take a red rose from you and why I did it? Maybe to rejoice in the romantic idea of getting a rose from you or maybe to go home and play a game of 'he loves me and he loves me not' or maybe to practice asking you out in the mirror.

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And one day I did, I rehearsed the lines perfectly and brushed my teeth twice, all set to confess. Oh how strongly I was willing to give this a chance that I memorized you shift timings, I apologize for being so creepy but there was something about you that gave me sparks from head to toe - the way your cheekbones rose when you grinned or the way your humble eyes responded to help. I think that's where you went wrong. You always cared too much; about your grandmother, about my fake relationship and about the child for whom you died, saving.

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"I am growing through thorns to become a rose," you told me last time, packing me a blue rose. Is that why the world chose the days of roses to take you away? Is that why you are covered in a garland of roses? You told me every color of rose has its event, "but which one should I buy on a funeral? A white one I think because it matches the colour of your shroud. Today I came with a lot of questions but I remember nothing but one, "can you please help me buy a rose for you? "

Yours lovingly,

That rose girl.